Smooth Like Butta!

Now normally I would have said "Sooth Like Buttah!" but that's the way the shirt that I got in the mail yesterday spells buttah--b-u-t-t-a. Anyway, special thanks to my sister Katie for the shirt. She's the bomb. Thanks Katie!

Today I tried out for the position of "Host" for two of the Emerson Channels Programs, Speechless, a political/issues debate show, and Good Morning, Emerson(GME) which is a morning talk show.

I honestly don't think I'm going to get the job, because I don't think I came off as exciting enough. I mean, I was totally comfortable talking to the people but I don't think that I came accross as a natural host. If only they knew me!

In Concept Development today, we broke away into groups of four, and had twenty minutes to write a story using card which our fellow classmates made. We had two character cards, one object and one location card, and we had to collaborativly write a story in 20-25 minutes with a beggining, middle and end. Needless to say, it was a lot of fun. Our characters were an Indian named Arti who works at a law firm, a lush women who's kids hate her, a cage for a location, and a burned photograph of a wedded couple.

So he's what we came up with in that time:

As Arti began to leave the law office, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Arti, I know you've been trying hard, but Mrs. Jenkins doesn't think that you're giving her case enough attention. So I'm giving it to Laurence.

His silent protests go unnoticed and his cellphone rings. The caller-id proclaims that it is his father. He sighs, returning the unanswered phone to its holster.

Meandering downtown, a neon "Budwieser" sign looms ahead. "Cheapshots Bar" is a dingy watering hole which has probably NEVER seen better days.

"Whiskey please." Arti orders.

Sitting at the bar, a lone woman drinking a martini turns to look at Arti. She knows he's never been here and sidles up beside him. She begins waving a tattered photograph around muttering "they'll burn you, the always burn you". As she speaks, the stench of alcohol washes over him, and he stammers for a response. "Do you have a family?" She clarifies.

They begin to talk about their respective family situations. Arti laments his inability to please his father, while the woman cries about how her three children are so embarressed by her that they haven't talked to her in years. She shows him the picture, which shows a bridal couple on their wedding day.

"I'm trapped in a cage, I'm sorry if that sounds cliche, but I am. It's 5 feet tall and 5 feet wide, and the door doesn't close quite right. Let's Burn down the bar! Bartender, I need a bottle of vodka and a strip of gauze!" She makes a molotov coctail, throws it behind the counter and runs out with Arti. The flames twinkle in their eyes.

Hours later, after the fire is out, the wedding picture sits in the rubble, singed at the edges.

THE END! MOLOTOV COCTAILS! I hope your day goes well everyone!